


The Plot Thickens

by omgericzimmermann (HMSLusitania)



Series: The Samwell Irregulars [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: (i have a degree in medieval history kids i know nothing, Bad Science, I really really mean it, IT CONTINUES, M/M, Slow Burn, Superpowers, THE COLD WAR, Well - Freeform, anyway, featuring the x-files, i know about medieval history, i've come back from the dead with gusto, not science, the slowest of burns, the superhero AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9337388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSLusitania/pseuds/omgericzimmermann
Summary: Being a superhero isn't everything Will Poindexter thought it would be. But at least they've got a great team composed of -- Frostbite, the ice and snow controlling, previously presumed dead hockey player- Captain Canada, their very own Steve Rogers- Stardust, who can phase through just about anything (and usually his own clothes)- Spectre and Phantom, the ghosts who like to ruin bad people's days- Adam Birkholtz, who's name defies superhero-dom- and Will himself, better known as Livewire these days.And all that would be fine if it wasn't for the FBI sniffing around, asking questions about where they got their powers. Which also would be fine if they hadn't come from an experiment Spectre and Phantom concocted out of the research that killed Will's parents fifteen years ago. But even that would've been manageable, until the lava monster started terrorizing the streets of Boston.





	1. Welcome Back

**Author's Note:**

> Hah, when I said I'd come back from the dead, even I didn't think this chapter would be up today. Let's see if I can sustain it. 
> 
> Warnings this chapter for referenced attempted suicide of a character who doesn't even have a name. But just so you know. That's there.

Rafael looked up at the cloudless blue sky above Boston and couldn’t help but think it was fake. It was like something out of the  _ Avengers _ when Tony Stark would fly around in New York City and instead of being a, well, city skyline, it was a perfect cloudless blue like it had been painted in some Hollywood post production studio. He didn’t think he was supposed to look up at the Boston sky in mid-May and think the same thing. That wasn’t how the real world worked. 

Or at least, it hadn’t been prior to the Samwell Incident at the Samwell Institute that had led to the creation of the Samwell Irregulars. Or, as it was known in his circles, case file X-37895b. 

Rafael took the hotdogs the vendor was holding out, smothered one of them in onions, relish, and ketchup, and put a splash of mustard on the other before returning to the car. 

“I’m just saying,” Tony said as Rafael handed him the inedible hotdog. 

“That relish is an abomination against god and man?” Rafael suggested. 

“Fuck off,” Tony replied. “No, I’m just saying that it makes sense. They’ve even got the same name.” 

“Yeah, because it’s been agreed they were created in the incident, not because Samwell Institute - a publicly traded company - has a secret team of real world superheroes that report to it,” Rafael said. “Just because they’re called the Samwell Irregulars doesn’t mean they report to Director Alicia Zimmermann.” 

“No, sure, of course not,” Tony said, although he sounded unconvinced. “But like, they could. You saw the piece in the  _ Globe _ that said Frostbite fits the build for Jack Zimmermann, right?” 

“Yeah, but Jack Zimmermann is dead,” Rafael reminded him. “Frostbite is not.” 

“Okay, but like--” 

“Jesus Tony, next you’re gonna start insisting that Stardust is Elvis or something,” Rafael said, rolling his eyes and taking a bite of his hotdog. It was sensible. Mustard. Bun. Dog. Not like Tony’s abominable snowman of a hotdog. “That’s what they should’a called Frostbite. The Abominable Snowman.” 

“Then what would they call Livewire?” Tony asked. “And no, I don’t think Stardust is Elvis. Come on. That’d be like saying Spectre and Phantom were the ghosts of Lizzie Borden and Jack the Ripper.” 

Rafael stared at him for a long moment and then shook his head. “Okay, whatever you say Mulder.” 

“Ha! That’s funny because we’re actually the X--”

Tony’s response was interrupted by an ungodly screeching from above them. They jumped out of the car, hands on badges and guns, and looked up. A young woman had clearly jumped from the roof of the building next to them, only to land on something solid and in midair. While the rapidly assembled group of onlookers watched, the invisible something turned into the honest-to-god hovercraft that the Samwell Irregulars were known to fly around in. Rafael watched in somewhat stunned disbelief as a door opened in the hovercraft and a shockingly large man pulled the young woman inside. Applause went up from the crowd, and the hovercraft was off. 

“Remind me again what you said when we were driving up here?” Tony said, turning to give Rafael the proudest smirk Rafael had seen him wear since they graduated from Quantico. 

“I said there was no way the Samwell Irregulars actually existed and that it was the entire city of Boston fucking with us,” Rafael replied. Tony’s smugness wasn’t going to wear off for the rest of the year, Rafael was pretty sure. 

* * *

 

“Ground control, this is Major Tom,” Adam said into the speaker. 

“We’re not calling you that,” Larissa replied from headquarters while Will, Justin, and Derek laughed. Jack was in the back with the jumper, offering her a bottle of water. 

“Goddammit,” Adam replied. “Anyway, we got the poor kid. Coming in.” 

“Cleared for landing,” Larissa said, and their hovercraft landed. Will was particularly proud of that bit of engineering on his part. He’d used an analysis of Derek’s DNA and powers to build a working invisibility shield that refracted the light around them so they wouldn’t be seen if they didn’t want to. It wasn’t true invisibility since there were still disturbances in the light as they flew by. Powering the hovercraft was his job, and he was pretty good about it these days. Shitty had been the one to suggest they register it as a helicopter, which gave them clearance to actually fly it in the city, and so far the higher authorities in Boston had been happy to let it slide, what with the massive decrease in crime. 

On the roof of headquarters, they jumped out onto the helipad and Will helped Jack steer the girl towards the most comforting part of their headquarters - the kitchen. 

Bitty was waiting there with a cup of hot chocolate and a piece of apple pie that he handed the girl. She took them, albeit through tears and sniffles, and Bitty shooed the rest of them out of the kitchen. 

“Okay, I’ve got a list of therapists and psychiatrists cross-referenced by which insurance they take and which of them owe us something,” Shitty said from his computer across the common office. “How’s the girl?” 

“Pretty shaken,” Derek said. “Bitty’s got her with some pie and cocoa.” 

“Bits is the best like that,” Shitty replied, typing something on his computer. 

“You might want to put on pants before she leaves the kitchen,” Will recommended. 

Shitty looked down at his boxers and grumbled, but left to put on clothes anyway. It was Shitty who had christened their home base the Haus because it apparently reminded him of living in a haunted frat house. 

“Not like it’s  _ that _ haunted,” Mandy had complained while floating through a wall and picking at her nails. “It’s just us.” 

“Yes, we’re only haunted by two ghosts,” Shitty had replied. “Makes it way less haunted than other hauntings.” 

“Two ghosts and whatever the hell Derek is,” Jenny had replied, smacking Derek upside the head. Aside from occasional physical objects, Derek was the only living person they could interact with. 

* * *

 

Shitty got the girl set up with an emergency counselling session and the instructions that she was to call them if she had any problems with her insurance and the affirmation that it would, unbelievably, somehow, get better. 

The rest of them gathered in the den - their disgusting man cave, as Bitty referred to it - and collapsed on the couches and chairs there. 

“We should have a psychiatrist on staff,” Shitty suggested, resting his head in Larissa’s lap. His feet were propped up on Jack at the other end of the couch. “I think we’re all gonna crack up with this double-identity thing you’ve got running.” 

“Only six of us have a double identity,” Derek pointed out. “Jack’s…”

“I’ve just got the one,” Jack said. He sounded a little sad about it and Bitty leaned over the back of the couch to kiss him. Will found himself glad Kent wasn’t there. Will usually was glad Kent wasn’t there, but was more glad whenever Jack and Bitty were being excessively...together. He didn’t mean to sound like a stick in the mud, but he, Derek, and Kent were the only three people in their team who weren’t in a relationship with someone. Their manager and lawyer were together, married even. Their ghosts were together, married as well prior to death, and liked to make a lot of bad jokes about how even death didn’t part them so they could’ve left those particular lines out of their vows. Jack and Bitty were practically married and Will was waiting with a bit of baited breath for Jack to ask Shitty to un-dead him so that he could marry Bitty properly. And then Adam and Justin were just. Disgusting. 

Which left him, Derek, and Kent their PR dude. And frankly, they were the most awkward singles club Will had ever encountered. 

“Before we get a psychiatrist on staff can we get a medical doctor?” Derek asked. 

“Hey!” Justin protested. “What am I?” 

“A sorry asshole with a PhD in biology and a masters’ in biomedical engineering,” Adam replies. “I’m the closest we’ve got to an actual doctor and all I did was get my EMT certification.” 

“As I said, we should get an actual medical doctor,” Derek said. “I don’t suppose Lieutenant Farmer knows anyone?”

They exchanged looks. Having Lieutenant Farmer be vaguely aware of their existence - okay, more than vaguely, she’d become a friend in the months since they’d been superheroes - had been invaluable. 

“Didn’t she say her boyfriend was a doctor?” Will asked. “Or in residency or something?” 

“I can give her a call,” Adam offered. “Oh, actually, I have to go to work. I can relieve her.” 

“We’ll see you when you get home, babe,” Justin said, kissing Adam while he ran out of the room pulling off his uniform. 

“I’ll call you guys if it’s something we can’t handle,” Adam promised, and then he was gone. 

They’d made a name for themselves in Boston. Between Will and Jack, they were equipped to take on any fire situation that could arise, especially the ones that were dangerous for the standard issue firefighters. And Derek and Justin were damn good with crime and related problems, since Derek was impervious to most things and Justin could break just about anything he wanted to what with being Captain Canada. 

“I can’t believe that name stuck,” Will said, shaking his head and switching the channel from the news to Adam’s favorite sitcoms. “Captain Canada. Jesus.”

“Take it up with Kent,” Justin said. 

“I don’t suppose y’all could’ve hired a PR person who wasn’t, y’know, complicated?” Bitty asked, displacing Shitty’s feet to sit in Jack’s lap. 

“Kent’s not complicated,” Will heard himself say. “He’s actually very straightforward and predictable.” 

“Yeah but the things he gets up to,” Bitty protested. 

“I didn’t say he was a good person, I just said he wasn’t complicated,” Will replied. “And he’s not.” 

“Fine,” Bitty replied. “I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” 

In a different life, Will would’ve called on Jack to explain Kent. But Jack had absolutely no memory of his life prior to the accident, so that was out of the question. Instead, they just had to trust that wherever Kent was at that moment, he wasn’t getting them into serious trouble. 

 


	2. Lava Monster - Why Is that a Thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case this wasn't blatant (and I've updated the tags as well), this story is a hella slow burn. Lots of mutual pining, but like. Kaylee and Simon slow here. I was about to write "without as many dangerous situations or people getting shot" but that would probably be egregiously false. Anyway. 
> 
> And to those who worried about Kent at the end of last chapter, he's...fine. I promise.

Kent wouldn’t consider his current activities as “getting them into trouble” necessarily. Maybe getting himself into trouble, but not the Samwell Irregulars as a whole. Not that he was really one of them. He was their accidental PR guy, because he happened to have the necessary journalism skills, and the knowledge of their secret identities so it wasn’t like they could throw him out. He was just...awkward PR seventeenth wheel or whatever. It was fine. It was perfectly fine.

Which was why he was day drinking at a grungy dive bar in Southie with wearing what had become his uniform - yesterday’s unironed suit, five-o-clock shadow, and a hangover.

He was somewhat aware of the bartender saying “yeah that’s him” and then two guys in slightly better kept suits were sitting down on either side of him.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Kent asked, taking a sip of his scotch.

“Bartender says you’re the guy we’re looking for,” the taller one said. He had a severe undercut which Kent thought was kind of funny since those had gone out of style. The other looked a bit confused and like maybe he didn’t agree with what they were doing.

“And why are you looking for me?” Kent asked.

“My name is Agent Weiss, this is my partner, Agent Gonzales,” the taller said, pulling out a badge that, to Kent’s disbelief, actually said FBI on it. “We’re investigating - well, I’m pretty sure you can guess what we’re investigating.”

Kent looked between them, affecting blankness. He thought the scotch might be helping his case.

“I can’t say that I do,” he said. “Should I?”

“Are you or are you not the person who runs the twitter for the Samwell Irregulars?” Agent Weiss asked.

Every ear in the bar perked up and turned towards their conversation. Kent fixed Agent Weiss with his least pleasant smile.

“If I was - which I’m not - why on earth would I tell you?” Kent asked.

“You are aware the vigilantism is illegal,” Agent Weiss said.

“Hey! Leave the Irregulars alone!” One of the bar patrons insisted. “They help people!”

“They saved my cousin!” One of the others shouted. “Pulled him out of a burning building!”

“Frostbite saved an entire bus of kids from getting heatstroke and Captain Canada broke them out!”

“Hell, you think that’s good? My apartment building was catching fire from bad wiring that our asshole landlord wouldn’t fix and you know what Livewire did? He put out the fuckin’ fire and then - AND THEN - he swallowed up all the electricity and came back a few days later and did all the rewiring in our building.”

“For free,” the man’s table mate added.

“Yeah, for free,” the first guy said.

“Look, we don’t want to get them in trouble for vigilantism,” Agent Gonzales said, giving Weiss a bad look when it looked like he was going to argue. “We want to talk to them about the nature of their powers and how they got them. We’re investigating. That’s all.”

“You gonna expose their secret identities?” Kent asked. “Because they don’t take very well to that.”

“You are the one who runs their twitter?” Agent Gonzales asked. His eyes lit up with excitement until Weiss elbowed him.

“They can’t exactly do it from the middle of crime fighting,” Kent pointed out. “So, what? You want an interview with them? Because I can tell you right now, Frostbite has no idea what happened to them, neither does Echo the Bunnyman, and the others only have partial theories.”

“Which one of them would be the best to talk to?” Weiss asked.

“Well it was Spectre and Phantom’s experiment,” Kent said. “But you have to believe in ghosts to talk to either of them.”

He sighed and took another drink. He felt guilty about the fact he was about to sell Will out, since Will did have the best understanding of what the fuck had happened to them, but there was an explosion from outside.

Kent exchanged looks with Weiss and Gonzales and the three of them ran out to the street.

“I’m - I’m hallucinating right?” Weiss asked, taking a step back.

Kent snorted. “Welcome to my life.”

* * *

 

“Urgent message from Kent,” Larissa said, putting the beeper down. “Southie, something unprecedented apparently.”

“Then we should go,” Derek said, bounding out of the den and towards the stairs to the helipad. Will followed, as did Jack and Justin.

“See you guys there!” Mandy called before she and Jenny vanished.

Will was their pilot when Adam was at work, with Derek riding shotgun.

“Larissa’s sending us the coordinates,” Jack said from the back, tapping them into Will’s navigation system. “Apparently Kent said to be prepared, whatever that means.”

“Knowing Kent? Nothing good,” Will replied, heading for the spot on the map.

It turned out he didn’t really need Larissa’s coordinates, because what they were looking for was damn obvious the second they saw it. Will accidentally let off the accelerator while they stared at it.

“Is that lava?” Justin demanded.

Will wanted to say no, wanted to say he wasn’t hovering over the streets of Boston watching a wave of honest to Jesus lava swell down the road, absorbing cars and bicycles and hopefully not pedestrians.

“Livewire, what’ve you got?” Derek demanded as they got closer.

Will wasn’t sure he could absorb that much energy. He wasn’t even sure what absorbing the energy out of a wall of lava was going to do. Would it just solidify on the street?

“Frostbite, I might need you to freeze it,” Will said, landing the hovercraft near the wall of lava but not within touching distance. “Where the hell is it coming from?”

“No idea,” Derek said. “Captain Canada, I think you and I are on civilian rescue.”

“Roger that,” Justin agreed, and he and Derek jumped out of the hovercraft and headed for street level. Will looked over at Jack and they headed for the edge of the roof.

“How do we even…” Will asked.

Jack shook his head, clearly at a loss. “Get closer, I suppose?”

Will nodded and headed for the fire escape. He could feel the heat coming off the lava even from this far away, and was glad to see Justin and Derek shepherding civilians away from the site.

“I’m gonna need an energy boost to freeze this,” Jack said over the comms.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Will replied, standing on a car closer to the lava as it rolled down the center of the street. For reasons he couldn’t explain, it was sticking to the middle of the road, bubbling and rolling waves of blackening molten rock. Will started to siphon off the heat, but there was so much of it he didn’t think he was going to do much good. He passed the energy off to Jack, who started whipping up a cold snap. The meteorologists of the world were going to have a shit fit.

As Will pulled the heat from the lava and passed the converted energy to Jack, he could feel the air crisp around them in ways it shouldn’t while there was a lava flow.

“Kinda reminds me of the Molasses Flood,” Jack said, grunting with exertion while the lava slowed.

“The what?” Will demanded.

“In the early 20th century a molasses tank burst and flooded the streets of Boston,” Jack said, and Will could see his hands start to turn blue with ice. “Twenty-one people died in the swells.”

Will looked away from the slowing lava so he could give Jack an appropriately incredulous look.

“You don’t even remember your own goddamn middle name but you know about that?” He demanded.

“History Channel,” Jack said. “And it’s Laurent.”

Will rolled his eyes and turned back to the lava. It was slowing, and in the cold snap brewing from Jack’s power, Will could see it starting to solidify. But it didn’t seem to be hardening to stone like lava was supposed to. It was...gooier than that.

“Hold onto your hat,” Jack mumbled so Will could barely hear him over the comms. With an actual snapping noise, the entire block was encased in ice. The lava froze, and then stopped, settling with a steaming hiss into a solid mass.

The swell stood above the street, a few cars displaced on top of it, and in it. Will didn’t think there were people in it, but they’d have to excavate to be sure. He didn’t envy the cleanup crew.

“So, what the hell causes lava in Boston?” Jack asked as they stepped closer. The passers by were edging closer and talking amongst themselves. Distantly, Will became aware of the sound of news helicopters, and of Derek and Justin appearing next to them.

“Spectre, Phantom I don’t suppose you guys can check to see if there are dead people in there?” Will asked.

“On it,” Mandy said, floating into the solid wall of lava.

“So not to be a boring biologist rather than a geologist but what the literal actual fuck?” Justin asked, crossing his arms and staring at the new hill in the middle of the street. It almost reached the same height as the buildings.

Will stepped closer to the new wall and placed a hand on it. He wasn’t concerned about it burning him at least. It was warm to the touch, but not hot. And it was...tacky?

“I don’t think this is lava,” Will said, pulling his hand away.

“Then what is it?” Derek asked putting his hand on it as well. He winced, which Will took as a comment he was very bad at judging the relative temperature of things these days. “Why does that feel like tar?”

Mandy popped out of the mound at that moment looking as grim as a ghost could look. “One casualty,” she said. “Everything else is just cars and one kid’s bike. I read the tags on it.”

“The kid’s bike?” Jack asked.

Mandy nodded. “So we can send her a new one.”

Jack looked enlightened and then turned back to Will and Derek. “So if it’s not lava, what is it?”

“I think it’s asphalt,” Will said. “We’ll have to take a sample to be sure.”

Justin collected the sample and they started for the fire escapes back to the hovercraft, but Kent’s voice rang over their intercom.

“Hey boys,” he said. “Got some guys who want to talk to you. Usual place?”

Will glanced at Jack, Justin, and Derek, and they nodded.

“See you there,” Derek said, and then they headed for the hovercraft. The “usual place” for meeting people wasn’t the Haus. It was the cafe Will had saved back when they were first starting out where the owners, Paolo and Maria, knew them well enough to keep their identities secret. It helped that Will had occasionally...known... Paolo a bit better than most people knew their baristas.

The hovercraft landed a bit closer to Will’s old apartment than the cafe, and they made sure to put on their masks properly before heading inside.

Kent was sitting at one of the tables nursing a cup of coffee while two men in pressed suits watched him.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Maria asked when they walked in, nodding at Kent and the suits.

“Kent said they wanted to talk to us,” Will explained.

“Who are they?” Maria asked.

“Guys, these are Agents Gonzales and Weiss,” Kent said. “FBI.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Whiskey and Tango are literally Scully and Mulder.

**Author's Note:**

> You can always come cry with me on [tumblr](http://omgericzimmermann.tumblr.com). I'm only weird and panicky most of the time.
> 
> Note as of 12 July 2018: I'm not dead, I promise. I'm just in graduate school and all of my notes for this fic are on a different continent which makes continuing the story difficult. I'll be reunited with the majority of my possessions sometime in October, so updates will be sometime...after that.


End file.
